Somewhere Out There
by BeautifulInsanity13
Summary: Plan C-What Max was going to do in AE if all else failed. And all else failed. The others got away, but Max got caught, just like she said she would. Four years passed. Now, Max is back, with a dark past that she won’t talk about, not even to Fang.
1. Prologue

_At Lake Mead, the night Max got there, before they left to find Angel._

The three of us, Nudge, Fang and I, sat on the edge of the cliff, just in front of the cave, watching the stars come out. This moment was perfect in every particular. A warm breeze ran it's fingers through my hair and left roses of my cheeks. With Fang on my left and Nudge on my right, I felt completely at ease. Then the thought of Angel hit me, and I felt sick. I was sitting here, enjoying myself, while she was being dragged through hell. I clenched and unclenched my fists, feeling helpless. But I did know that Nudge was nearly out of energy, and we needed just one night of rest before we continued. Speaking of Nudge, she was uncharacteristically quiet. I glanced over at her, to see her fighting to stay awake. "Nudge?" I said.

"Huh?" she said sleepily, blinking at me.

"How about going to bed, before you fall asleep here and fall of the cliff?"

"Good idea." She slurred, before stumbling back into the cave. She fell onto the floor and curled up around her little rag blankie. She was asleep within seconds. So now it was just me and Fang, sitting on the edge. I lay back, the better to see the sky, and he lay beside me. 

Laying underneath the stars  
Strung out and feeling great  
Watch the red orange glow  
Watch it float away

"Fang?"

"Mm?"

"I'm glad I have you. If I didn't, I think I'd be really lonely."

He reached out and put an arm around me, pulling me closer to him. I came, and rested my head on his shoulder. "I'm glad to have you too, Max." I heard the smile in his voice, and I looked up to see it. The moonlight illuminated his face, glinting out of his eyes. He looked down at me, and then we were face to face. He smiled again, playing with a lock of my hair. 

"Your hair looks like moonlight." He let the hair drop, where it fell on my face. He brushed it aside. His fingers touched my cheek as he did so, and I felt fire where he'd touched. Then he put his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me into a kiss. It felt like fire, filling me from the inside out, warming me. I put my arm around him, pulling him closer, then I was lying on top of him, and it was better than a thousand dreams could imagine. 

_A couple of months after Max was taken._

Fang lay awake in his bed, missing Max like his heart would break. He'd been thinking in the last 67 days, ever since Max was taken. He'd been trying to figure out what love really was, and now he thinked he had it. Love was when one person believes that he, she, or it can't live without some other he, she, or it. He thought 'believes' because he now knew that you could, indeed, live without that other he, she, or it. You didn't want to live, though. But he kept on living, so that the kids had a place. It was hard though. Harder than you could imagine. So hard that he spent all his time feeling like he was going to just break under the pain of it all, every single second. 


	2. Life As We Know It

**Disclaimer: What is a disclaimer anyways, exactly? Someone who doesn't claim? Hmm… anyways, these characters aren't mine, and the series isn't mine. I'm kind of glad for that, because sometimes I read certain fanfics and realize that they're better written than the original books. **_**telekineticwonder**_**'s work is an example of this.**

**By the way, sorry it took me so long to update, my wireless internet mysteriously died and then reappeared. Hmm…**

**Ah well. During that time I wrote the next few chapters, but I won't post unless I get reviews.**

_Roughly Four Years Later_

Fang woke up, and blinked at the ceiling. He still wondered at the fact that he had a ceiling, that he'd managed this wonder of getting a home for the kids. They had a home, and more importantly, they had security, a safe sense that every day they would have heat, and food, and a home, and one another. Well, they had everyone but Max. Fang's heart ached, thinking about Max. 1453 days, nearly four years had passed, and it wasn't getting any easier, living without her.

He knew he had to face the world, though, so he rolled himself out of bed and put on a shirt, then went into the room next door to kick Iggy and Gazzy awake. He opened the door, and was appalled by the mess, not to mention the smell. He reached one cautious foot into the nest of blankets and dirty socks in one corner and poked Gazzy awake, and just threw a shoe at Iggy's leg, which was hanging off of the bed in the opposite corner. 

"Wha'? Huh?" 

"It's a new day. Get up and face it." He said, then crossed the hall to the girls' room. It, at least, was cleaner, and it smelled like Nudge's perfume, which was a slight improvement to Iggy and Gazzy's dirty socks, in his opinion. The walls were a light blue, and the ceiling was the same color, painted with fluffy white clouds. In amongst the clouds, so small to be barely visible, were six bird kids. Six. Just looking at it made his heart hurt just that little bit more, so he tried not to. Instead, he looked at Nudge. She was fifteen now, and absolutely beautiful. She was the one who had painted the ceiling, she was into art now, especially painting. Fang gently shook her shoulder, and her eyes opened.

"Morning. Time to get up." He said. Nudge nodded sleepily, then stumbled off to the bathroom, to shower. Fang turned then to Angel. She was looking at him, looking as if she had just woken up. She was ten, he realized, growing up way too fast. She smiled sadly at him, then got out of bed and gave him a big hug. Fang hugged her back, stroking her hair. He could usually keep Angel out of his mind, but he hadn't noticed she was awake, and now she'd already heard him. After a moment, she pulled away, and Fang walked out of the room, leaving her to get dressed.

Fifteen minutes later, everyone had made it to the kitchen, except Nudge. She was still in the bathroom, blow drying her hair, by the sound of it. She always spent ages getting ready. Thank God that their house had two bathrooms, or no one else would ever get in there. Iggy, in pajama pants and a t-shirt, was making scrambled eggs, while Angel, fully dressed, toasted and buttered most of a loaf of bread. Gazzy sat in the corner seat of the breakfast nook, half asleep, still in his pajamas. Fang set the table, and Gazzy hauled himself up and got out juice. Nudge sailed into the room just as they were sitting down, with her hair perfect, her clothes completely matching, and her little bit of makeup applied with precision. She sat down in her spot next to Angel, and started chattering about her latest series of paintings, ones of people as angels. She asked everyone if they would sit for her, and got various answers, from Iggy's "yeah, that'd be cool," to Fang's "not if you paid me". Angel reminded everyone that she had a ballet class after school and wouldn't be home until 4:30, while Gazzy stared into the distance, the way people do when they haven't quite woken up yet. Iggy and Nudge cleared the table, then Fang sent them all off to finish getting ready for school, while he did the dishes. Fang and Iggy were eighteen, but Fang had worked his butt off for a year, finishing high school a year early, so he could get a job, so he could support the kids. He made expensive, handmade furniture for a guy who had been doing it for years, but was getting too old to do it all himself. It was Friday, though, and Fang had Fridays off, so while everyone else was leaving for school, Fang was finishing dishes and starting laundry. This was what he did on Fridays. He cleaned, and grocery shopped and fixed everything that people had managed to break during the last week. He was just finishing up sweeping the kitchen floor when he heard a knock on the door. He leaned the broom against the fridge, then went to answer it. He turned the knob and pulled open the door. What stood on the other side struck him momentarily speechless. 

"Max?"

**Hehe, cliffie. How will he react?**

**Review, please.**

**Hey, that almost sounded like a normal person wrote it. Cool. **

**Then again, normal is only a setting on washing machines.**


	3. Coming Home

**Disclaimer: If I was the actual author of Maximum Ride, do you really think I'd be here, writing fanfic?? I mean, the word is FANfic, so it is usually written by FANS, one would assume. Weird, I just typoed the word assume, and wrote assumer, and Word thinks that it's an actual word. Weird. **

_Max POV_

I sat at a little table in some little diner in some little town, somewhere in Massachusetts. I had a map in front of me, as well as a scrap of paper with an address on it, and a cup of good, strong coffee. I traced lines on the map with my finger, seeing where I needed to go. I figured it out, and folded up the map, tucking it into my worn black knapsack. I put the paper into the inside pocket of my coat, an old black mens one. I drained my mug, and put some change on my table, including a tip, then left the diner, slinging my knapsack over my shoulder. Since it was four in the morning, it was still pitch-black outside, and really cold. I went around the back of the building and put my knapsack on, then opened my wings carefully through the slits in my coat, wincing as the cracked bones shot spears of pain through them, and the cuts pulled. Some of them started to bleed, a little. I swore, then decided to fix it in about three hours, when I got to where I needed to go. I took a couple of running steps, then took off, as more cuts pulled. I wasn't even sure that this was a good idea, going to find them, but I had no other choice. I wanted to tell them that they were safe, that Itex was gone, that the School was gone, and the Institute, and every other place like them, along with all the notes, and the research, and the people, all the whitecoats, all the Erasers and Flyboys, Jeb. Every one of those sick, twisted people and ideas was gone from our world.

But what if they turned me away? What if they didn't want me? I couldn't think of that, I had no where else to go. I was broken, damaged, with no where that I could go, no money left, nothing. Nothing. I was nothing, and I had nothing but some ripped clothes, a map, a little bit of change, and a lot of scars. I didn't even have shoes, for heaven's sakes. 

I had thousands of misgivings as I started my flight, but then the pain filled my mind as my whole body screamed at me for doing this to it. My wings burned and my cracked ribs ached. Each little cut was a sharp pain, blossoming all over me. I just gritted my teeth and kept going. By the time I made it to the area I wanted, I was barely conscious, and the sun was peeking its first rays into the sky, lacing the black with color. I landed sloppily in the street, at the edge of a little neighborhood of average sized houses, with big yards and lots of trees, lots of privacy. I limped along one street, and then turned down another, looking for 1372 Sacramento Drive. _1366, 1368, 1370, 1372._ It was an average sized house, bright white with rich purple trim. The garden in front was full of flowers, bright and beautiful, and it looked well-kept. The curtains in most of the windows were closed, but one of the upstairs rooms had them open. The curtains were white, and the bit of the ceiling that I could see was sky blue, painted with clouds. I took a deep breath, then winced as a sharp pain shot through my ribs. I went up to the door and steeled myself, then knocked quickly, before I lost my resolve. I could hear voices stop when I knocked, then I heard a chair scrape across the floor. I heard footsteps, then the door opened.

Standing there was Fang. Fang, tall and dark, handsome as ever. Just looking at him made me feel safer, even though he was looking at _me_ as if I were an alien.

"Max?" he asked, as though he didn't actually believe that it was me. And maybe I didn't look like myself. Four years is enough to change anyone, as I was bruised and cut enough on top of that to garner some doubt, as well as extremely dirty.

I didn't know what to say. I just stood there looking at him, as he looked at me. I met his eyes, and he just stepped forward, onto the front step, then hugged me. It hurt, but I didn't care. I just wrapped my arms around his waist and buried my face into his shoulder. The last four years had been so hard, so hard, and I had missed him so much. It was like I lost a part of myself. I'd missed all of them. They were my family, and I had given up everything for them, including myself. I'd been willing to die for them, and I nearly had, many times. Now I stood here, encircled in Fang's arms, and I thought that it had been worth it, to keep them alive.

After a minute, I pulled away a bit. "How is everyone?" I asked.

"What! You've been missing for four years, we all thought you were dead, you show up on my front porch looking like you've been dragged through hell several times, and the first thing you say is 'how is everyone?'??" Fang exploded. "Where have you been? What happened to you?"

"Fang, I can't... I just…I can't. It's too hard. I just can't." I said, looking up at him.

"All right, come here. You need something put on those cuts. And…what the hell did they do to your wings?" he asked, looking at them, the way they were all cut, covered in dry blood, and bent out of shape. "Max, what did they do to you?"

I just shook my head. It was too hard. It was too fresh, it hurt too much, and I was so tired it took all my energy to just stay conscious. "I need to lie down, or I'm gonna pass out, Fang. I've been flying for hours." My words started to slur, and as I leaned against him, my vision began to blur. I was losing the adrenaline that came with flying, running, and fighting, truly losing it for what was probably the first time in the last four years, since the day they captured me. My knees buckled and I felt Fang catch me as I fell, before everything went dark.

I woke screaming, in the dark, thinking that I was being tortured. Suddenly, someone was beside me, taking me into his arms. It was Fang. He held me close, stroking my hair, whispering in my ear, reassuring me, "it was just a dream Max, it was only a dream, you're okay, you're safe here, it's okay, you're safe, I've got you, it's just a dream, its only a dream." I drew a deep shuddering breath and wrapped my arms around him, fighting back the nausea that those memories bring on. I just held him tight, forcing myself to remember where I was, that they were all gone, they were all gone, all those people and places were gone. It was a few minutes before I pulled myself together enough to let go of him. 

"Max?"

"I'm fine." I replied, automatically. I wasn't fine, I was as far from fine as it was possible to get, but I wasn't going to tell him that. 

"No you're not. Do you want anything?" he said. I could tell just by his voice that he was still really worried about me.

I thought about this for a second. "Clean. I need to get clean. And then I need some food. But clean first."

"Okay. The bathroom's this way. Do you need help getting there?" he asked.

I shook my head, and stood, then fell over as my legs refused to support me. He caught me, then picked me up carefully and left the room. "I'm sorry, Fang." 

"What for?"

"Being so weak."

"Max, you are unbelievable. You look like you've been tortured and beat up, again, and again, and your body needs more rest, and time to heal. You're allowed to be weak." He turned so that we could get through the doors of the bathroom, being careful of my wings. "There's a bathtub, so you don't need to stand, thank God." He sat me on the edge of it. "Do you need help with your coat?" I nodded, and unzipped it. He helped me take off my jacket, sliding it carefully off over my wings. Careful as he was, it still hurt. 

"I need help with my shirt too." I said, unbuttoning it, and he nodded. As I drew it off, he winced, seeing all the fresh cuts, over old scars. My back wasn't any better. I could tell he wanted to ask about them again, but he held back. 

"Are you going to be okay with your jeans?" he asked, and I nodded. "Okay, I'll go make you some food. I'll bring some clothes, too, just yell when you're finished. 

"Thanks, Fang." I said, as he left, closing the door behind him. I managed to get off my jeans and using my arms, shift myself into the tub, and turn on the water. I flinched as the hot water touched my many cuts, making them sting. I ignored the pain, and it went away. I scrubbed myself as best I could, around the bigger cuts, and over the smaller. I washed four years worth of grime out of my hair, careful to keep my wings dry. I'd do them later; some of the cuts on them were stitched up roughly by me, and too big to submerge. I soaked away the ache that filled my body, in each one of my bones and each bruise. By the time I was finished, the water was too dark to see my legs. I let it out, then poured in more to finish rinsing myself, then I called Fang. He was there in an instant, with a big t-shirt of his and a pair of girls underwear, Nudge's, I assumed. 

"Feeling better?" he asked.

"A little." I answered. It was true, after my couple of hours of sleep and a bath, I did feel better. "How long did I sleep for, anyways?"

"About five hours." Five hours. The longest I'd slept in four years. The 'most/longest/safest in four years' thing seemed to be happening a lot today. Which did, if you thought about it, make sense. Fang grabbed me by the waist and pulled me out of the tub. "You weigh nothing! Less than nothing. Have you not eaten in the last month?"

"Not much." I said. It would have been almost funny, if it wasn't so true.

He just looked at me, at my face, and I could see it hurting him, not knowing, seeing me hurt. He sat me on the edge of the tub, and then helped me put the shirt on. It fell down almost to my knees. He handed me the underwear, and I managed to get it on, then he picked me up and carried me back to the room I woke up in. Looking around, I saw that it was his room. The bed, the dresser, and the desk were made of the same dark, reddish wood, and polished smooth. The walls were a light green, and in one corner, a mural of a tree rose up and spread across that section of the walls and ceiling, perfect, with dark green, blade-shaped leaves. I wondered who had done it, then saw a scribble of a signature on one of the roots, nearly at floor level. I squinted at it and realized that it said Nudge.

"Nudge painted that?" I asked, nodding at the mural. Fang looked too. 

"Oh, yeah, she's quite the little artist. Her stuff is all over the house. She's fifteen now. And Angel's ten, and Gazzy is twelve. And Iggy's eighteen, like you and me."

"So it has been four years?"

"Yeah, nearly. In a week or so. You didn't know?"

"No, I just tried to remember it by seasons. I wasn't sure if it had been three years, or five. I was just guessing at four."

He looked at me for a second, like he wanted to say something, but didn't know what to say. Then he said "I'll go get your food, just wait a minute." He left the room. I shivered, a little, and pulled the quilt up over my lap. I looked around the room again, and saw something I hadn't before; hanging on the wall above the door, by a thin red ribbon, was a broken seashell with dried blood on it. I swallowed, remembering that day. I had tried to get that chip out of my arm, on a beach in Florida. Fang had come up and stopped me, saved me from myself, yelled at me for being so stupid. I didn't know he'd kept the shell, but apparently he had. Then Fang himself appeared in the doorway, holding a tray. He came over to the bed and set it carefully on my lap. On it was a big bowl of soup, chicken noodle, it looked like, a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches with ham, and a couple of plums, along with a big mug of tea and a glass of water. I wolfed it all down, and guzzled the water, then I drank the tea slowly, savoring the hot liquid. Fang sat next to me the whole time, watching me. I took a sip of my tea, and looked at him. He didn't stop staring at me. I felt a little self-conscious, as if I'd grown a second nose or something.

"What?" I asked.

"Huh?"

"Why are you looking at me?"

"I just can't believe you're really here. I thought you were dead."

I took another sip of my tea, to give myself time to collect an answer.

"If I were dead, the world would be gone, Fang." He looked at me sharply, to see if I was joking. I wasn't. I didn't know if I could joke anymore. I definitely couldn't smile, or laugh. I think I'd forgotten how. "Not kidding."

"So, you did have to save the world?" he asked, keeping his voice completely level, which was a dead giveaway that he was really curious and scared to know.

"Well, I didn't _have to_, per say, but there was no one else to do it, and if I hadn't, it would have ended, so…" I took another sip of tea. I could see a million questions on his face, and each one hurt too much to answer. I'd seen too much, done too much, been in too much pain. And that was only in the first two years. The second two had been almost worse, in their own way. Thankfully, he didn't actually ask any of them. I drank the last of my tea and set the mug on the bedside table, where I'd put the empty tray. "I need some more sleep." I said, and he nodded, getting up to close the blinds. I lay down and pulled the blankets up to my chin. He lay down next to me, on top of the covers, and put his arm around my shoulders, just like he did that night, so long ago. I curled into him and put my head on his chest, so that I could hear his heartbeat. I slowly fell into a deep and (thankfully) dreamless sleep, and stayed that way for more than a day. 

**Okay, so what do y'all think? Just to tell you, I never actually say 'y'all', I was just struck by a sudden urge to. Actually, I'm from Canada. Vancouver, to be exact, (that's in western Canada, in case you didn't know) and we never say 'eh' here either. That's more an Ontario/Quebec/Maritimes kind of thing. Back east, they say 'eh'. All Canadians do not say 'eh'. Now you know, in case you didn't before. **

** Anyhoo, what do you think really? Can I have some reviews? Please? I live for reviews, really. I'll have a bad day, and then come home and turn on my laptop, and there they are, sitting in my inbox like a friendly little wave. So please send me a wave from wherever you are. Please? I won't post if I don't get reviews, because that would mean no one was reading this, and that would just be tragical. And if that isn't a word, it should be. Now, according to Microsoft Word on my computer, it is. So there. It even has a definition. It's definition is 'Kind of like tragic, but worse.' Official sounding, I know.**

** This is, officially, the longest fanfic chapter I have ever written.**

**OKAY, I NEED A VOTE. NUDGE AND IGGY, OR IGGY AND ANOTHER FEMALE CHARACTER WHO MAY OR MAY NOT ACTUALLY ENTER THE STORY LATER. PLEASE VOTE IN YOUR REVIEW, Y'KNOW, THE ONE THAT ALL OF YOU ARE SENDING. PLEASE SEND ASAP, BECAUSE I HAVE TO HAVE AT LEAST SEVEN VOTES BEFORE I DECIDE AND I NEED TO DECIDE BEFORE I POST THE NEXT CHAPTER. THANK YOU FOR READING THIS OBNOXIOUS CAPITALISATION. EAT SOMETHING YUMMY FOR BREAKFAST TOMORROW. OR TODAY, IF YOU HAVEN'T EATEN BREAKFAST YET. WHICHEVER.**


	4. Four Years In Five Minutes

When i woke up, I felt better than I had in years

**Disclaimer: I only own Kyarri. Well, I don't technically own her, since she isn't copyrighted or anything, but I'm working on something separate with her, something that's all my own, so please don't take her, or her name, I came up with it myself. So yeah, no one else is 'mine.'**

When I woke up, I felt better than I had in years. I opened my eyes, and felt at peace. It was dark, because the blinds were shut, but I could see light around their edges. I heard a slight scratching noise. What… I rolled over. 

"Max!!" It was Nudge. "You're awake!!" she gave me a great big hug. I hugged her back, scarcely believing that I had my family back. She was so tall, and so beautiful, and so mature-looking. The scratching sound had come from the artist's pencil scratching on the paper of her sketchbook.

"Nudge, you look so, so…grown-up. You're beautiful." I said. 

A voice came from the doorway. "Yeah, I tell her that all the time. Somehow, she doesn't believe me." It was Iggy. He came over and hugged me, too. "I missed you, Max." He had gotten even taller. He was handsome now, and seemed to fit his skin better than he had before. He seemed comfortable with himself now, and had a kind of confidence about him that he didn't have the last time I'd seen him. 

"I missed you, too. I missed all of you." I said, looking back at Nudge. She was smiling at me and I wanted to smile back, but I couldn't. I couldn't smile. I couldn't remember how. "It's been so long." They just smiled at me. I didn't know what to do. Just then, Gazzy came running in, then tripped over his feet and nearly went sprawling. Nudge laughed at him.

"Guys, you didn't tell me she was awake, you were supposed to tell me when she woke up!!" he said, flinging himself at me for a hug. He gave me a hug, then stepped back, looking awkward. I reached out for another hug. He smiled, and gave it to me, then sat on the bed by my feet, leaning against the footboard. He looked so grown up too. He was twelve now, and tall and gangly as all get out. His hair was getting a bit long, and shaggier, but his eyes were still earnest and brilliant blue, the way they always had been. I could just tell that in a couple of years, he would be a heartbreaker. "Hey Max. I thought you were going to sleep forever."

"How long did I sleep, anyways?" I asked.

"Um…it's about 4 in the afternoon, so…about 26 hours, give or take a bit. More than a day. You must have been _really _tired." Gazzy replied.

"I was, I was absolutely exhausted." I said, and took a deep breath. I looked over at Iggy and Nudge, and saw that they were holding hands.

"You guys are a couple now?" I exclaimed. They just sort of blushed, while Gazzy snickered, playing his part as the peanut gallery at the foot of the bed. "Sure, don't tell me." I said, mock hurt.

"You've been awake for all of five minutes!" Nudge protested. 

"It's okay, I was kidding. Since when?" I asked, simply curious.

"Only a couple of weeks," Iggy replied. "That's why Gazzy still thinks its so funny. He'll get over it eventually, hopefully soon. He's started noticing girls lately, like that Samantha, eh Gazzy." He said, elbowing the twelve-year old. Gazzy blushed and stopped snickering.

"Angel, on the other hand," said Nudge, rolling her eyes, "Can't stop gushing about how cute we are and how she's seen it coming for ages, and how finally it's happened, but most of all how cute we are. She's such a romantic."

Just then, we heard the front door slam, and a yell. "Hello? Where is everybody?"

"Fang's room!" Nudge called back. "She's awake!" A moment later, Angel came into the room, blonde curls flying, and jumped into my lap, smothering me in kisses. I hugged her. She was getting so big, and she was so pretty. Her hair was mostly tied into a bun, but it was escaping and curling in golden coils around her face. Her blue eyes, exactly like Gazzy's shone with excitement out of her pale face, and roses bloomed on her cheeks. I had my mind carefully shielded, like Jeb taught me when I was back in the school, since I was facing mind-reading experiments. I still hated Jeb, and I was so glad he was dead, but he did teach me things that I would have died without. 

"Max, I missed you so, so, so much!!" she exclaimed. She was still wearing a black leotard, pink tights, and a pink wrap skirt. Her leotard came up far enough in the back that you couldn't really see her wings, and I supposed if anyone asked her what was with her back, she could just make them think that they had never seen them.

"So, you're a ballerina now?" I asked.

"Yeah, I've been dancing for nearly two years, ever since we came here. I love it Max, it feels like flying on the ground, and it makes me feel so graceful." She said. She looked so happy, glowing, like nothing I could relate to. It made me happy for her and sad for myself at the same time. 

"That's great, Angel. You should show me, later."

"Sure, I'm practicing for my audition, all of the 8-12 year olds are doing the Twelve Dancing Princesses as our summer show, and I'm trying out for the youngest sister. She has the prettiest part, I just love it. I really want to get it, so I'm practicing lots, so that I can get it. My dance teacher, Mademoiselle Katarina says that I have a good chance of getting it, even though there's lots of girls who've been dancing for longer, because I try so hard. She says I'm getting really good." She was still beaming at me. I gave her another hug, then looked back at Nudge. 

"So, you're an artist now?" I asked her.

"Kind of. I just like messing around with charcoal and paint." She said.

"Don't be so modest," Iggy said, elbowing her. "You're absolutely amazing."

"How would you know?" she asked. "You're blind."

"Really? I hadn't noticed." Iggy said, with such a point-blank 

end-of-discussion-ness, that Nudge just dropped it.

"Yeah, she is really good," Gazzy chimed in. "Her stuff is all over the house. She sells some of it now, too. It's amazing. She's starting this new series."

"Really, Nudge? What's it about?" I asked her. I was just asking questions, trying to catch up on the last four years of their lives in only a few minutes, at the same time praying that they wouldn't start asking me questions. They hadn't at all so far. Maybe Fang had told them not to.

Nudge started talking about her 'People As Angels' collection. I listened intently, but I had this feeling of being watched. It wasn't Iggy, obviously, and it wasn't Nudge, even though she was looking at me. Gazzy was watching Nudge, listening to her, and that left…Angel. She was just sitting there, on my lap, looking at me, with a look of intense determination. When I concentrated, I could feel her probing at my mind, trying to get in. _Back off, Angel. _I projected the thought so she would hear it. _This is my mind. Get out of it. It's not for you to look at. If I catch you trying to read it again, there will be severe repercussions._ Angel stopped frowning, and stopped looking determined. She just looked confused. That was all right. "…And Max, can I do you as an Angel, because you'd just make the most beautiful angel."

I had a flashback, to about a year before.

_One of the Erasers held my hands behind my back. I was bleeding from cuts all over me, especially from the deep one in the artery in my leg. I struggled, but I was weak from blood loss. All around me lay my friends, the others who were to help me save the world, the other successful hybrids, dead. Only one other was alive, a girl. Her name was Kyarri, and we had spent the last two years together, fighting to stay alive. Together, we had saved the world. None of the others were strong enough, they all died off, one by one, until we were here, and we were all that was left. She was being held by another Eraser, one of the old ones, the first set of flying ones. They were bad fliers, but they were by far the strongest. Ari came towards me, leering at me. He leaned in, to tear out my throat. _

_"No!" screamed Kyarri. "Stop! Don't kill her, please don't kill her! She is our savior, mine and yours! She is_ _the strongest of us all, the most beautiful, and she will save us all!"_

_ Ari turned to look at her. "You're right, cat girl. She is the prettiest of us all. But personally, I think she'd make the most beautiful angel." Then he smashed a fist into Kyarri's chest, and I heard ribs snap. She dropped like a stone, barely getting ragged breaths into her chest, and I knew at least one of the ribs had punctured her lung. I was the only one left. In that split second, I acted, throwing the Eraser holding me over my shoulder and into Ari, as I caught them both off guard. I pulled a knife out of it's sheath on my calf, then hit the other Eraser in the back of the neck with it's hilt. He passed out, and as Ari struggled under his dead weight, I slit Ari's throat, then ran him through again, and again, and again, as his blood soaked my clothes, for what he had done to me, and for what he had done to Kyarri, and what he had done to all the others. Finally, I stopped. My hands, my knife, my clothes, the ground, all soaked in his blood. I stabbed the other one, for good measure, then used his shirt to bind up the cut in my leg._

_Then I walked over to Kyarri. She wasn't breathing anymore. She had been my friend, the closest thing to the flock that I was ever going to get again, or so I thought. Around her neck, a small silver leaf hung on a silver chain, tangled with her dark brown curls. I took it, and clasped it around my neck, a way to remember, before closing her staring green eyes for the last time. I stood. _

_ "Are you happy?" I yelled. "Are you happy now? Will you ever be satisfied? How many people have to die while you play your sick games? How many? Look around, they're all dead. They're all dead, is that what you wanted? Is this what your grand plan is? To kill us all?" I stood there, trapped in this special room, this concrete jungle with windows of 10 inch glass with three layers of chicken wire, feeling more helpless than I ever had before. I was starting to lose it, but I wouldn't cry, couldn't cry. "Is this what you want?" I whispered, and then blacked out._

I shook my head, to get the memory out, then I realized that they were all looking at me. "What?" I asked.

"You just zoned, man. It was like you were in a different world or something." Gazzy said this. I looked at him, and saw that he was scared.

"Max?" This was Angel. I looked at her, and saw she was crying. "I'm sorry Max, I'm so sorry." She hugged me fiercely. I realized that I'd been projecting my memory. Angel had seen everything that I had seen, felt everything that I'd felt. 

"I'm sorry Angel, I'm sorry you saw that, I'm sorry baby, I'll never do it again, I promise. I'm so sorry, Angel, I didn't realize, I didn't do it on purpose, I'm so sorry." I held her tight in my arms, as she cried for me. I felt awful, absolutely terrible that she'd seen that. No one should have to see that, to even know about it. After a minute, Angel stopped crying. She pulled away, wiping her face with the tissue that Iggy passed to her, then she reached up to pull out the chain around my neck. On it, was the same silver leaf, slightly heart shaped and perfect in every way. She held it in her hand for a minute, then tucked it back under my shirt, or, more accurately, Fang's shirt. I kissed her on the forehead, then looked up to see everyone watching me, including Fang, who by look of it, was just coming in from a shower. Nudge looked horrified. 

"Max, what happened to you?"

**I really don't know what to say here. I'm not entirely sure yet if Kyarri is going to play any other part in the story, so just bear with me. My stories are always confusing and jumbled. The best thing you can do is press that little purple button down there, y'know, the one that says GO! You know you want to; you actually do want to press it, because there's nothing better than pressing buttons. Therapy is expensive; bubble wrap is cheap. The same thing applies to buttons.**

**Also, c'mon guys, this story only has three reviews. You guys are making me sad. This is my favorite that I've written, and no one else likes it. Cries.**


	5. Settling In

Recap: … then looked up to see everyone watching me, including Fang, who by look of it, was just coming in from a shower

**I has 14 reviews!! Thanks all, but please review again, because reviews make me very happy.**

**Disclaimer: I wish I owned Fang. He's yummy. But, sadly, I don't. I don't own any of them, really.**

**By the way, sometimes I add random notes in the middle of the story, in sexy brackets, like this. These are called sexy brackets in tribute to my eighth grade science teacher, Mr Bentley, who always called them that. **

_Recap: …_ _then looked up to see everyone watching me, including Fang, who by look of it, was just coming in from a shower. Nudge_ _looked horrified. _

_"Max, what happened to you?"_

You know those moments, those awful moments, the ones that you don't know what to say, and everyone wants you to talk, and you have this naïve hope that somehow, if you wait long enough, they'll all just forget that they were waiting for you to talk and would start talking about butterflies or something. Those moments make me feel so completely pathetic, it's not even funny. After thinking for a minute, I finally settled on an answer.

"A lot of things, and I don't want to talk about a single one of them." They were all still watching me, looking concerned. Angel was still crying a little, leaning against me, her head tucked in under my chin.

"Max…" Iggy began, but I shook my head.

"No, Iggy. Just no. I'm fine. _Really_." I said, because he looked disbelieving. He shook his head, but thankfully, he let it go. _For now._ A tiny voice in my head said. I ignored it. And, for all those people out there thinking it, no, not THE VOICE. Just that little voice in the back of your head that says things that you are very specifically trying not to think. C'mon, everyone has one. Don't they?

"Hey, what's a girl got to do to get some food in this place?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood. "I'm starving."

"It's nearly dinnertime, I'll make something real quick." Iggy said. "Hey, Nudge, want to come help?"

Nudge nodded. "Sure, I'll be there in a minute."

"I'll help!" said Gazzy eagerly, and then fell off the bed while trying to unfold his long legs and get up. He sure is clumsy right now, I suppose because he's growing too fast to get comfortable with his body before it grows again. "C'mon, Ange." He tugged on his sister's arm. She kissed me on the cheek again before following him out of the room. I swung my legs out, and Fang immediately came over to help me.

"No, Fang, it's okay, I think I can walk now." Actually, I felt a lot stronger, The sleep had really helped. My legs looked a lot less bruised, the cuts were shrinking. The same with my arms, and my ribs ached a lot less, as did my cracked wrist. My wings, well, we were just going to keep them inside the t-shirt and not show them to anyone, other than Fang, who'd already seen them. "Just stay here, unless I can't." He nodded.

"You couldn't walk before?" gasped Nudge. She looked close to tears.

"I was just really tired, and really hurt, Nudge. And don't ask me questions, because I don't want to talk about it. I'm a lot better now, see?" I held out my legs for her to look at. She winced.

"If that's 'better', I don't want to see worse. Are you sure you're okay?" she asked.

I sighed, impatient. "Nudge, I'm fine." I put my feet on the floor, then, gripping Fang's arm for support, I stood. My legs were a little shaky, but for the most part I was fine. I let go of his arm, but he still followed me all the (slow) way to the kitchen, close enough that he was able to catch me around the waist when I tripped on a rug in the hallway. Nudge followed just beside him. Finally, I was settled in a cushy corner. Nudge brought me a fluffy blanket to tuck around my legs, so I didn't get cold. Meanwhile, Iggy made stir-fry, him doing the veggies while Gazzy did the chicken in a frying pan, so they got cooked enough. Angel set the table, and Nudge 'supervised' and checked in on me about a hundred times. Fang was in the little laundry room, off the kitchen, switching loads and separating colors from whites. In no more than a couple of minutes we were all sitting at the table while Nudge dished out big bowls of stir-fry from her place right next to me. She seemed to think that if I spent any time out of her sight, I'd disappear again.

"Max, are you sure you're okay?" Nudge asked, for the thousandth time.

"Nudge, if you ask me that one more time, I swear, I am going to kill you." I said. Her face broke into a broad grin.

"_That_ sounds more like our Max." she said. She looked so relieved, they all did, that I just couldn't say what I truly wanted to. I wanted to say, 'did it not occur to you that I might not be your Max anymore? Did you ever think that I've changed? Maybe seen things, done things, that have changed me?' But I didn't. I just took a bite of my stir-fry, and in the same motion, bit back my words.

After dinner, I stood and started to clear the table, which was heartily discouraged, with Gazzy taking the dishes, and Nudge pulling me back onto the bench.

"I'm not a _cripple_, you guys. I'm not an _invalid_. I'm perfectly fine." I said, standing again. I overbalanced and Nudge had to grab my round the waist so I didn't pitch forward into the table.

"Yeah, you seem real steady on your feet," she said sarcastically. I straightened and pulled her arms off of me. I tried to look dignified, and failed, mainly because I was in an oversized t-shirt and my hair was falling in my eyes. I stole a hair tie off of Nudge's wrist and pulled it back. Better.

"I," I said haughtily, "Am going to have a bath. _On my own. Without help._ I am capable of this. Having a bath is easy. I can do it."

"Max, you're babbling." said Iggy, smirking. I scowled at him. Yet another instance of killer looks not working on Iggy.

"D'you want clothes?" Nudge asked. "Because something tells me that you don't want to put that shirt back on. Then again, I don't think any of my shirts would fit you. Your boobs are bigger than mine." Iggy snickered and Nudge shot him a look. Gazzy, over by the sink, turned pink. Tee-hee, that rhymes "So, you'll have to borrow another one of Fang's shirts. Never mind. But at least use the girl's bathroom this time, so you don't smell like Old Spice soap anymore. You smell like Fang."

Iggy leaned over to Gazzy and whispered something. Then both snickered.

"What was that, Iggy?" I asked, innocently.

"Nothing really. I only said that maybe that's not from the soap." Gazzy was still snickering behind him. I think I might have blushed. Either way, I stalked out of the room, not even dignifying this with an answer. I didn't hear Fang follow me, but when my legs collapsed again, he was right there to catch me.

"This is so humiliating. I'm sorry, Fang." I said, as he lifted me in his arms. I heard giggles from the kitchen end of the hallway. Fang turned to look, and we saw Iggy, Nudge, Gazzy, and Angel peeking around the corner, in that order from top to bottom, like a cartoon or something. I definitely blushed then, and I almost smiled.

"Max, I told you, it's fine. However," he said, setting me down on the edge of the tub, this time in the other bathroom, "since Nudge is here, I'll let her help you undress and dress you this time. And then we'll take a look at your wings."

"Yeah, I kind of had to stitch them up myself, and I was dizzy from blood loss, so they're kind of iffy in the stitches department. We'll have to take these ones out and maybe put new ones in, if the cuts still need it."

He kept his face perfectly calm, but I knew he really wanted to ask. "Okay, we'll deal with it all later. He leaned down and kissed my bruised forehead, then left the room, yelling for Nudge. _Well, that was unexpected. _I thought, touching my fingers briefly to the spot on my forehead.

I managed to get through my bath without Nudge seeing my wings. I got off, toweled myself dry, and even managed to get my clothes (another of Fang's shirts, this one with a teenage Kurt Cobain, and another pair of Nudge's underwear) on by myself. Then I stumbled out into the hallway, with Nudge's help. I started towards the living room, and then Fang stepped in front of me. I was walking by myself again, but I had to suddenly stop and I fell. He caught me, then asked "Where are you headed?"

I suddenly felt exhausted. "To the living room," I said, yawning. "You should have your bed back, I'll sleep on the couch." I yawned again, this time so widely that my jaw cracked.

He actually laughed. "Max, you are an idiot." He said affectionately. "You will be sleeping in a proper bed, my proper bed, and you have no say in the matter." I opened my mouth to protest, and he covered it with one hand. "Enough." I shut up. He scooped me up in his arms, and took me into his room and dumped me onto his bed. "Do you want to do your wings now, or do you want to wait for tomorrow?" he asked.

"Lets do them now, get it over with. Just make sure the kids don't come in, okay? I don't want them seeing…" he nodded, and locked the door, then got out his first aid kit. I carefully unfurled my wings through the slits in the back of the shirt, wincing as I did so. Fang looked at them again, and I could tell he was trying not to flinch. I took a deep breath. The he busied himself with one set of stitches, at the tip of my right wing. He worked slowly and carefully, gently taking out the old stitches, putting just a couple of butterflies those white things that are sort of like the butterflies on tenser bandages, but white, and to hold skin together in their place. It hurt a lot, but not as much as it had sewing them up originally. I just gritted my teeth and bore it. It took a long time, but finally we finished. I pulled my wings back in, then curled up against the pain and fell into a fitful sleep.

**So, why don't you review and say what you think? Its funny, I just thought **_**Oh, it's probably nearly midnight, I should turn this off and go to bed,**_** and then I looked at the clock and realized its 2:15. I've been writing, this story and others, since about 6. my, how time flies when you're having fun. PLEASE REVIEW. ****Please?**


	6. Memories, Truths and Comfort

I was in a building, and it was burning down around me

**Disclaimer: Seriously, these things are kind of stupid. **

A/N: Okay, so this chapter, you need to pay close attention, otherwise you'll miss stuff. Stuff that'll be important later.

_I was in a building, and it was burning down around me. But I had to find Kyarri, I had to get her out. I owed it to her, I had gotten her into this in the first place, I should have just told her to run when she had the chance. But I had to be stupid, and try and save the other hybrids from their cages, and she had come with me. Now she was lost in this burning, crumbling place, and it was my fault. I ran through the building, yelling her name, holding my wings in tight, so that they didn't catch fire. My clothes had caught on fire and been put out so many times, they had just fallen to pieces on the floor. I was running through this maze of a rat-trap prison, naked, screaming her name. "Kyarri! Kyarri!" Finally I saw her, in one of the rooms full of cages. Some of the cages were empty, some were locked with experiments in them. She had passed out, but one of the other hybrids, Sticky, the gecko boy, had taken the keys from her hand and was unlocking the other cages. I yelled at him to get out, that the roof wasn't stable, it would collapse any minute. He just shook his head stubbornly and continued to unlock cages. I didn't have time for this, I didn't have time to persuade him, so I just slung Kyarri over my shoulder and ran out of the building, dodging fallen ceiling beams. I heard the ceiling creak and ran even faster. The exit was in sight, my wings were burning and I was screaming, but I kept going. I ran out of the building, and collapsed into the snow, rolling over in it, trying to put out my wings. The fire in them went out. I looked over at Kyarri, as she woke up in the cold snow. She looked at me. "Only three more to go." I said grimly, just as the roof caved in. Sticky and the others were still trapped inside. A tongue of flame burst out the door and caught me up in it. My hair, my wings, my very skin was burning as the flames ate me alive. _

I woke screaming for the second time in three days. Again, Fang was there in an instant, holding me, stroking my hair, reassuring me. "Fang, it hurt so much, it hurt so bad, I was on fire, and the others, the others were trapped inside, and they all died, and I nearly died too, and so did Kyarri, but the others did die, Sticky, and Fizz, and Violet, they all died, they all died and I couldn't save them, and I started the fire and I didn't know, Fang, I didn't know, and I killed them." I buried my face into his shoulder, and wrapped my arms around his waist, and he held me close, and I was so close to crying, but I couldn't, I couldn't cry, it was too hard, it was too raw still, it hurt too much.

okay, it's three am right now, and I am waaay too tired to keep writing.

I heard a knock on the door. "Is everything okay?" called a voice. It was Nudge.

"It's fine, Nudge. Go back to bed." Fang said. We heard her feet shuffle across the hall, then heard her say something to Angel before she closed the door.

"Max…what happened to you?" he asked. I looked up into his dark eyes, so full of concern, and just kind of broke.

"You want to know what happened? I killed people, that's what happened. I destroyed every Itex-related building in the world, all the places like the School, and the Institute. I destroyed all their notes, all their papers, all their research. I killed experiments, too. I didn't mean to, usually, but I did. I faced horrors. I killed Ari, and most of the other Erasers. I made friends, and I watched them die in front of me. I wanted to die too. I wanted to kill myself, just so that I would all stop. I didn't though, for all of you. For you, and Iggy, and Nudge, and Gazzy, and Angel. I kept on going for all of you. And then I kept going so that the others, so that they wouldn't have died in vain. I wanted their deaths to mean something. So we kept going, as our group got smaller and smaller, and in the end, after we saved the world, they just gave us up. They'd used us, and they'd gotten what they wanted, and then they discarded us. There were seven of us left, Fang. There used to be hundreds. Only seven left." I was crying now, but I couldn't stop talking. "And then… and then they gave us to the scientists, to keep in cages, to test again and again, to figure out how to do it better next time, make better hybrids. There was only the one building left, this one set of people. The last of the whitecoats. They just ran more and more experiments, and it was torture, Fang. Way worse than the school. They put us in glass and wire cages, we couldn't breathe, we couldn't heal. Then, when they were done with their twisted experiments, they gave us to the Erasers. We were their toys, their playthings, something to just amuse them and keep them out of the way. It was sick, Fang, it was so sick." I buried my face into his shoulder and just cried, cried for the first time in years, and just let it all out. He held me close and stroked my hair while I sobbed, letting myself cry it all out.

A/N: So, how d'you like it?? Review, and let me know. I know it's been forever since I updated, it's just been tough getting to work on this lately, with school and family and friends and life in general. And exams are, well, NOW, like, my last one is tomorrow morning, and I've been playing my guitar a lot. And, of course, my novel. Which is coming along. Ish. But I digress. Please keep reading, even though I'm a spaz!!


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